


And I Heard The Thunder Rolling In

by CaffieneKitty



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Demonic Possession, Episode Tag, Episode: s04e22 Lucifer Rising, Families of Choice, Friendship, Gen, Loss of Trust, Plot, kripke'd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-10
Updated: 2009-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-30 17:32:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaffieneKitty/pseuds/CaffieneKitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer's got Sam, Dean's got Bobby, and everyone is making new allegiances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The prologue was written within 2 hours of 4.22 airing. Force Nine plot bunny. Part One was mostly written the next day, then the rest in bits and pieces, then it stalled for a long while, and then I pushed it through so it was at least partly up before Season 5 started and it got entirely Kripked. Title from Chris deBurgh's "The Vision"
> 
>  
> 
> _Originally posted on Livejournal September 10, 2009_

St. Mary's Ilchester, Maryland. 1972

"What do you mean? What child?

_You will find a special child. One that will be prepared, one who will open the final seal._

"A human."

_Yes. Born human, but marked, and trained. Prepared._

"Prepared to open the final seal?"

_And for what comes after. Prepared to be my vessel._

"Ah. Yes, well of course. Custom-tailored, not any old thing off the rack."

_Indeed._

"It will be done, Father."

-

Apocalypse, Year 1, Day 1. Thursday.

The convent shook.

"He's coming!" Sam breathed.

The blood on the floor swirled down and coruscating light poured up and- "Holy shit!"

"How do we- What do we-?"

Dean shielded his eyes. "I dunno, Sammy! That dick Zachariah said I was some kinda Chosen One, hell, Cas said I could stop-"

BRING FORTH THE CHOSEN ONE.

"Um, _shit!"_

Sam grabbed at Dean's jacket. "We have to stop this! This is all my fault, Dean!"

"Shut up, Sam, we-"

HM. NO ACOLYTES? NO SCURRYING MINIONS? IT MATTERS NOT. IF THE ONE WILL NOT BE BROUGHT, I SHALL TAKE HIM WHERE HE STANDS.

"Fuck it! RUN, SAMMY!!" Dean grabbed Sam's jacket in both hands and slung him towards the door.

Sam stumbled across the room but stopped and turned back. "No, Dean! Don't!"

"Don't look back Sammy!" Dean lowered his chin and moved closer to the deepening pit, addressing the light pouring out of it. "You want me, come and get me, you evil son of a bitch! Step on up and let's dance!"

Rich cackling erupted from the light.

WHY WOULD I WANT _YOU?_

Burning, diseased-looking light erupted from the gate, flew across the room to Sam, who was still standing half in the doorway.

"De-!" Sam said before the light struck him full in the chest, pinning him to the doorframe, arms splayed, transfixing him. His eyes and mouth flew open wide and the light surrounded him.

"Sammy! No!" Dean shrieked, taking a running step toward Sam, then finding himself halted in mid-stride. One of Sam's hands was aimed in Dean's general direction. A deep chuckling rose from Sam's throat even as the light poured into it, and Sam's eyes went vague with terror.

Unable to move, Dean swore, shouting, "Let him go! You let him go!"

The light swirled down into Sam and the room illumination reverted to flickering light from the few remaining lit candles. The gate sealed.

"SAM!" Dean howled.

"Ugh. Noisy." Sam made a pinching motion with his fingers and Dean's mouth snapped shut.

Sam tilted his head and pulled away from the wall, smiling and looking around. He looked back at Dean.

"Hardly worth the effort, is it? Earth." Sam kicked at the corpse of Ruby's former host. "Messy. It'll need some remodeling."

Dean struggled in the grip of the force holding him, eyes threatening things he couldn't begin to do.

Sam stepped closer to Dean, teeth flashing in a grin unlike any Dean had seen on his brother's face before. "I could squash you. Destroy you utterly, right now, right this second, Fate-boy. You're out from under your Keeper's eye."

Dean, growing pale from the effort of struggling against a titanic invisible force. Through his closed mouth he grunted, "Gh hme, sht-hd!"

Sam tipped his head back and laughed. "'Go home.' Cute."

Dean glared.

Sam took a slow walk around Dean, who followed his possessed brother's motion as best he coould, whites of his eyes showing as he tracked the slow movement. "I understand from the screamings of the human soul who lived in this body that I have you to thank for a great deal of its preparedness. Brother."

Dean roared, straining, trapped. "SMMY!"

"Yes, yes. He's in here. He'll be a fun toy for slow days. Won't be many of those, though, I expect. He says I should let you live." Sam stopped his circuit around Dean, stood in front of him, smirking. "He begs. Says he'll be quiet, cooperate, even help, if only I let you live."

"GNH! SM!"

"This amuses me. I think you will amuse me too. So," said Sam, face-to-face with Dean, _"thank you."_

The convent began to rumble. Dust sifted from the plaster overhead; a window shattered, sending shards of color to the blood-streaked floor.

Sam turned away, idly grabbing the knife from Ruby's corpse as he walked by and out the door, laughing. Dean continued to strain against the invisible force holding him immobile. Halfway down the hall Sam raised his hand and snapped his fingers, simultaneously releasing Dean and disappearing.

Dean shouted "SAM!" and ran towards the doorway.

That was when the convent collapsed.

\- ~ -

Chuck stood side-by-side with Castiel, watching the archangel light build and brighten the room. Castiel's eyes were open wide against the glare, shoulders set and tense. Chuck could hear Castiel muttering something in an ethereal, echoing language and wasn't sure if it was some kind of angel spellwork or panicked swearing. The angel looked as terrified as a supposedly emotionless immortal creature could look.

Suddenly, the light and roaring outside was gone. Castiel stumbled forward a step, straining against a force that was suddenly absent.

"Wha-" Chuck said, looking between Castiel and the window. "Did you do it? Di- did you make it go away?"

"No."

Chuck glanced away from the window to Castiel. The angel stood beside Chuck's desk, leaning on it, looking disconcertingly like he was about to throw up.

"We were too late. Dean could not stop it. The Prophecy as foretold has come to pass. Lucifer has been freed."

Chuck sat suddenly. "Oh god."

"Armageddon has begun."

-

Dean woke to feel the rubble shifting above him. The door frame had kept him from being crushed outright, but his head hurt like a son of a bitch, and his right ankle was creaking under the weight of a section of wall. What happened? Where was he? And where was-

Dean's eyes snapped fully open.

Lucifer was free. Walking the earth. In Sam's body. Fuck his ankle.

"SAM!" Dean shouted.

A faint voice came from overhead. "...hear somethin'..."

"SAM?!" Dean shouted again, hoping wildly maybe that whole 'Lucifer-is-possessing-my-baby-brother' thing was a hallucination.

"...Dean?..." Didn't sound like Sam.

"Yeah! It's me!"

"...it's Dean! He's alive! Gun it!..."

Somewhere nearby an engine roared, and the pile of rubble shifted significantly, wooden beams and lintels pulled away. Light shone in on Dean, occluded almost immediately by a head and a trucker cap.

"Dean. Thank god! Aren't you a sight for sore eyes."

"Bobby." Dean found it hard to breathe suddenly.

"Is Sam in this mess too?"

Dean shook his head, not trusting his voice.

"Where's Sam?"

"I- I..." Dean swallowed. _I lost him. Lucifer got him. Oh God._

-

Without senses, Sam's world was darkness. Himself alone inside himself. But not alone, and not silent.

_You said you'd let him live!_

HE'LL LIVE. IT TAKES MORE THAN A COLLAPSING CHURCH TO KILL A COCKROACH.

_He has to be alive, or I-_

YOU WON'T COOPERATE? YOU'LL STRUGGLE? OH, PLEASE DO.

_I'll-_

YOU THINK FOR ONE OF YOUR POINTLESS, FLEETING SECONDS THAT YOU CAN DO ANYTHING TO STOP ME?

_...I can try._

The voice modulated down from the soul-rattling boom to a moderate speaking tone. "I'm tempted to tell you he's dead, just to see what you'd 'try'. But he isn't. He's crawling out even now, lamenting his failure to save you. Again."

Sam seethed. _Prove it. Prove he's alive. Let me see him._

"Maybe. If it amuses me. But... I control your access to your senses, Sam, all of them. You think I can't make you perceive anything it pleases me to make you perceive?"

Suddenly Sam had his senses back, vision, hearing, smell, taste, touch, flooded with burning flesh and rotting blood and Dean, arms held wide by chains and being torn apart, screaming Sam's name.

 _No! Stop!_ The sensations snapped off and Sam's world was dark and quiet again. He wasn't sure who was controlling his stomach, but he felt like throwing up.

"You think I can't do anything I choose to do, to you, or to your brother? You were built for me. Trained. Azazel did a lovely job. You fit like a glove. A very roomy glove."

Sam didn't respond.

"Aw, done fighting already?"

_For now._

"Good. Because your brother _is_ still alive. It might still amuse me to find him and have you flay him to death, slowly."

 _No!_ Bodilessly, Sam shuddered. _Please, no._

"Please. Interesting word. The full form of it would be 'if it pleases you'. You'll just have to ensure that it _does_ please me to allow your brother to live."

_...Yes._

"What's that?"

_Yes. I will. I, I won't be a problem. Just let Dean live._

"Excellent."

-

"I lost him. Bobby," Dean gasped, trying to shift the rubble off his ankle. "Fuck! I lost Sam. Lucifer, he's out, and he's got Sam."

"Easy, boy," said Bobby, reaching into the rubble with both arms. "Grab my hands."

"Bobby, did you hear me? I said-"

"And I said grab my hands so _we_ can pull your fool ass out of there," Bobby snapped.

Dean blinked. "We? Who's with you?"

"No one that needs to know," Bobby whispered.

"Why-"

"Much as I'd be willing to, I couldn't find you and dig you out from under the rubble under my own steam. I, uh. Had to call in a favor or two."

"Who? What do they know?"

"Nothing more than I can help. Now stop jawin' and grab my goddamn hands, boy!"

Dean gripped both of the older man's arms in his, hands clasping behind elbows. Looking up out of the gloom in the rubble, he met Bobby's eyes. "I'm gonna get him back, Bobby."

"One thing at a time, alright?" Bobby turned and called back over his shoulder. "Pull!"

Dean grunted as his trapped foot came out from under the pile of rubble, which began shifting, destabilizing. He planted his other foot on a more stable chunk and pushed up towards Bobby and the light.

"Get Bobby out of there! It's shifting again," called a male voice over the sound of an engine.

Whoever was pulling on Bobby kept pulling as Dean stumbled up and out over the rubble-pile, not letting go. Behind them, the pile creaked and collapsed into the space that had held Dean, sending up a cloud of dust.

Bobby pulled Dean into a hug. Dean wrapped his arms around Bobby and held on, eyes closed. He whispered, "Bastard took him over, Bobby. I couldn't- He-"

"I know, Dean," Bobby rumbled quietly, resting a hand on the back of Dean's head, another between his shoulders. The touch grounded Dean, kept him from losing it completely. "We'll talk, but not now."

"Is this a private hug or can anyone get in?" a throaty female voice said somewhere in front of Dean.

Dean opened his eyes to see a dirt-smudged and scratched woman, with a smile on her face, watching the two men hug.

"Ellen?"

"Come 'ere," she said, holding out her arms.

Bobby released Dean who stepped into Ellen's arms, accepting the hug, but not relaxing into it. He and Sam hadn't seen her for nearly two years. They'd known she was still around hunting, from second-hand reports from Bobby, but Dean wasn't sure where she stood on recent events in the Winchester family. On Sam.

He had to find Sam. He had to get Sam back.

The section of roof-beam held by the tow truck cable fell back with a crash as the truck's engine cut out. The door of the tow truck cab opened.

Dean startled away from Ellen and frowned at the older black man descending from the cab of the truck. Rufus.

"Is the hugging mandatory?" Rufus called across the rubble. "Because I don't think I'm comfortable with hugging the brother of the Anti-Christ."

"Rufus..." Bobby scowled, voice low and warning.

"I said I'd help, Bobby. Never said I'd keep my opinions to myself."

Dean pulled on Bobby's arm and hissed into his ear. "You asked _Rufus_ to-"

Bobby's eyes slid to the ground before coming back up to meet Dean's "We've all made our deals with devils to save the people we love, Dean."

Dean's jaw clenched.

"Come on," said Ellen, looking between the men. "Let's get out of here."

-

Chuck peered out the window. It was past midnight and pitch black outside, except for one or two feebly flickering street-lights that had escaped the effects of the archangel's near-landing.

He turned to Castiel. "So, is he uh, gone for good? My archangel? Or-"

A spike of raw pain snapped through Chuck's head and down his spine, and he collapsed on the couch.

_Sam, eyes glowing fire, laughing, Dean and others tracking him, chasing him, death and dying and pandemonium on earth and Dean raising a knife, a gun, a sword, a hand palm out against Sam and Sam screaming and screaming and screaming in the dark-_

Chuck's eyes flew open to find Castiel less than a foot from his face, leaning over him, looking at him partly like Castiel was a robin and Chuck was a possibly-tasty possibly-poisonous bug, and partly like Chuck was Castiel's only hope of, of everything.

"Gah!" squawked Chuck.

"What did you see?" asked Castiel, intently.

"You! In my personal space!"

Castiel tilted his head. "I don't under-"

"Back off a sec, let me breathe! I have to process." Chuck sat up and put his head in his hands.

"This is a good sign," said Castiel, stepping away and looking toward the window.

"How is any of this good?" said Chuck, rubbing his temples.

"You are still receiving the Word. It means that Armageddon has started, but the story has not ended. There is hope."

"I wouldn't call it that."

"It also means that you should still be protected."

"Great. So the archangel's coming back? Or is it still there?"

"I don't know. I'm not 'in the loop' anymore."

Chuck swallowed, flicking his eyes towards the angel. "Wow. I didn't see that coming."

"Neither did I." Castiel turned to meet Chuck's gaze. "What did you see?"

Chuck looked down at the floor and drew a shuddering breath. "You aren't gonna like it."

-

It was like the old riddle about carrying foxes and hens and grain across a river in a boat. Ruby's Mustang was mashed flat by the collapse of the convent. Ellen had brought her car, Bobby and Rufus had come in the tow truck. They were all going back to Bobby's to regroup, but Rufus wouldn't ride with Dean, and the feeling was mutual. Dean didn't want Rufus riding with Ellen in case he used the trip to turn her against Sam, assuming she wasn't already, which left Bobby and Rufus in the tow truck, and Dean riding with Ellen.

There was a fragrant pouch of protective herbs hanging from her cigarette lighter. Dean watched the road roll by outside, tense.

That familiar crushing, queasy feeling had settled in, like his guts were full of engine grease. Sammy was gone, and Dean had no idea where he was or how to get him back. Something bad had him, something that was pretty much the definition of 'evil'. It was like Cold Oaks all over again, only a million times worse. Lucifer had taken Dean's little brother for a joyride. He wanted to puke.

"So," said Ellen, breaking the extended silence. "Are you gonna talk to me or do I have to put on my Yanni tapes."

Dean grimaced. "You listen to Yanni?"

"No, but it got you talking. What the hell's going on, Dean?"

Dean hesitated. "What have you heard?"

"I know what I've heard. I want to hear it from you."

He turned to face Ellen. Her chin was tipped down and her eyes were on the road. He looked away again. "It's a fam-"

"If you tell me this is a goddamned family thing, Dean Winchester, so help me, I will put this car in the ditch. Talk to me."

"I can't, Ellen. There's a lot-"

Ellen swerved. Dean thought for a second she actually was going to put the thing into the ditch, but she ran it onto the shoulder, throwing the car into park and turning towards Dean.

"You think I'd have dropped everything to come help dig your sorry ass out of a collapsed convent if I didn't care about you? You _and_ your brother?"

Dean's jaw clenched. "Rufus did."

Ellen snorted. "Rufus is doing it for free pick of ten books out of Bobby's collection."

"What?"

"Any ten. No restrictions. Bobby's promised him that for his help."

Dean's head swam. "Bobby couldn't have got someone else to drive his tow truck?"

"You think that's all he brought Rufus in for? You disappeared out from in front of Bobby. Nobody knows half of what Bobby's got on that place for wards, and for you to disappear like that... We had to find you. He called me right away. Bobby's-" she raised her elbow in the air and pointed towards the ground, wiggling her finger around like the device Bobby had used to locate Lillith last year "-thing couldn't find you, and it started to smoke when we tried to find Sam."

Dean's eyebrow raised and he shook his head. _Ruby and her hex bags._

"We went to the next logical thing and looked for demonic-omen central, which under the circumstances was a lot harder than it used to be. With the seals breaking, demonic activity is off the charts globally, never mind localizing it within the lower 48 states. They're rattling all the Gates, everywhere."

"Bobby knows about demonic omens though. Why'd he need Rufus?"

"Rufus has a few tricks Bobby doesn't know, so he called him in. And it worked 'cause we found you. Now spill."

Dean looked over at Ellen. She looked back, about the same as when he'd last seen her outside that graveyard in Wyoming. Maybe harder, maybe a couple threads of grey. What had she been doing since then? And why...

Dean set his jaw. "You never called us, Ellen. Not once. For two years. If you were that interested in me and Sam, you could have called."

Ellen's expression went hard for a moment, before her eyes dropped from Dean's and she turned back to the steering wheel.

"You boys could've called me too." She re-started the car. "I'm not the one who dropped off the face of the earth."

Dean shot Ellen a glance, but she was too-casually shoulder-checking and easing back onto the road.

 _I_ need _to talk to Bobby._


	2. Chapter 2

The ride to Bobby's was silent, Bobby's being a better place than most to start looking for Sam. No telling where Lucifer had snatched him off to, so staying in the area of the convent was pointless. Over the miles, sitting in the passenger seat, Dean had plenty of time to stew and worry and not much else to distract him.

He was about set to explode out of the car when Ellen parked, but lingered by the vehicle. He had to know.

"Where do you stand, Ellen? On me and Sam?"

"On Sam, you mean," said Ellen blandly.

Dean repeated the question. "Where do you stand?"

Ellen looked at Dean over the car's roof. "We need to hunt Sam down, bring him in, keep him safe."

Dean's jaw clenched. "Why do I not really believe part three of that?"

Ellen paused beside the car, tipping her chin up to meet Dean's eyes. "You used to trust me, Dean."

"Not really."

"Well, fine then. You didn't used to assume I was working against you."

"Things have changed," Dean said tightly.

"Yes. They have." Ellen snapped. "But not where it counts. Not for me."

She slammed the driver's side door and stalked into Bobby's house. _Hunt Sam down, she said._ Dean thought, shutting the door and watching her go. _Not find Sam, hunt him. Plenty of basis for trust there._

The tow-truck was parked off-kilter in its usual place, and Rufus was nowhere to be seen. Bobby was re-winding the tow hook cables, and nodded at Ellen as she went inside, then glanced towards Dean.

Dean went over and snagged Bobby by the elbow. "We gotta talk."

"No kidding. Why do you think I'm messing with these damn cables? For my OCD?" Bobby glanced at the house and started taking the scenic route to the front door, Dean in tow.

"What exactly happened?" Bobby asked.

"Ruby was playing Sam all along. The gate was opened." _Doesn't matter by who._ "Lucifer is out, he possessed Sam, then popped out before he collapsed the convent." Dean shook his head. "How could that even happen? Sam getting possessed? Sam's got the anti-possession thing, same as I do."

Bobby frowned. "Either he's too powerful, more than likely, or the rules apply different to him. Lucifer's not a demon, he's a fallen angel."

"Dammit, Bobby!"

"Hey, I don't think anything would be strong enough to keep Lucifer out if he wants in! Nothing I can do anyway."

Dean glanced up as the door to Bobby's place slammed. "What did you tell Ellen and Rufus?"

"Nothing they didn't need to know. Told 'em you disappeared out from in front of me, Sam was missing and there was a demon showdown in progress. I didn't have a hell of a pile of details to give anyone. What happened to you anyway? You disappeared from in front of me. Where'd you go?"

"Frigging angels benched me. The bastards wanted the Apocalypse, Bobby. They wanted- They want a war."

Bobby's eyebrows shot skyward. "Castiel does?"

"No, some dick named Zachariah, supposed to be Cas's superior." Dean grimaced. "I've had more superior things stuck to the bottom of my shoe. Castiel sprung me out of the place, sent me to Sam, but I didn't get there in time."

Bobby nodded towards the house. "Rufus knows I was keeping Sam locked up here earlier, and you heard him back at the convent. He's made his own mind up."

"Why'd you even bring Rufus into this?"

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. "Needed him to find you. Rufus knows a few things I don't, has an ear in a few circles I'm not privy to."

"What's gonna happen when we find Sam, Bobby?" Dean turned to face his friend. "Better yet, what's gonna keep Rufus from taking what you know, adding it to what he knows, finding Sam himself and not bothering to tell us? What if he just goes off to hunt him down?"

Bobby met his eyes for a second, before his gaze flicked over Dean's shoulder towards the house, then slid to the side.

"Yeah. Screw that." Dean turned away from Bobby and stalked towards the house.

Ellen and Rufus looked up when the front door banged open. They stood in the kitchen a neutral distance apart; not friendly, but not unfriendly either.

"I thought you'd stopped hunting, Rufus," said Dean, barging in and ignoring Ellen. "Gone the happy hermit route."

"Yeah, well, Apocalypse. It's a game-changer." Rufus leaned against Bobby's kitchen counter, crossing his arms. "Figured there ain't much point in staying holed up, waiting for Hell to come to me. May as well try and do something about it."

"And what exactly would that be, Rufus? Hunh?" Dean crossed his arms too. "What do you think you can do to stop the Apocalypse?"

Rufus looked levelly at Dean. "How many people have you exorcised, Dean?"

Dean frowned. "What's that got to-"

"How many of 'em died?"

Dean's mouth snapped shut, eyes flaring.

Bobby stepped up beside Dean. "If you got a point, Rufus, make it."

"All I'm saying is I'm sure your brother was a nice kid growing up, but he ain't nice no more. I never believed Gordon, but it turns out in that particular regard, he actually wasn't crazier than a shithouse rat. Your brother is the Anti-Christ. Near as I can tell in retrospect, he always has been."

Dean jerked his chin up and took a step forward, hands dropping to his sides and balling into fists. "You shut your mouth about my brother."

Rufus looked at Dean sadly, with pity. "Deny it all you want, Dean but facts are facts. Your brother is going to help Lucifer destroy the world. If you haven't got the stomach to do what needs doing, then stay out of the way and let someone else handle it. I'm going to stop Sam and stop the Apocalypse by any means necessary. God help anyone who gets in my way."

Dean took another step forward but found Bobby solidly in his way, holding him back.

"Rufus, thank you for your help," Bobby growled. "You've said your piece, take your damn books and go."

Rufus casually leaned away from the counter and picked a stack of books off the side table. "I am sorry it has to be this way, Dean, but I understand. I'd find it hard to see reason too if it was my brother."

Dean seethed as Rufus brushed past Ellen and left. Ellen watched him go.

"Ellen...?" said Dean.

Ellen glanced towards Bobby, then Dean, then slid her eyes down to the floor and turned to follow Rufus.

A slim thread of shock slid through Dean, despite his earlier suspicions. "Looks like things have changed after all, hunh, Ellen?" He called after her, voice rough.

Ellen stopped in the doorway, shoulders stiffening, but said nothing and continued out the door after Rufus.

Dean's eyes went hard, staring into the vacant space where Ellen had been, listening to her car start and drive away. Rufus he'd expected. Ellen... he'd hoped he was wrong about Ellen. Obviously he was a better judge of character than he'd thought.

He became aware of Bobby watching him.

"You wanna go hunt Sam too, Bobby?" Dean said without looking at the older hunter. "I mean why the hell not, right?"

"Dean... I'm sorry."

"Don't. Just-" Dean shook his head, turned and walked out into the junk yard feeling Bobby's eyes follow him out.

He wanted nothing more than to get in the Impala and take off to search for Sam, but he didn't even know where to start. Rufus was tracking Sam, with Ellen- Dean swallowed sourly. Odds of them sharing anything they found out were nil. Which left Castiel, who given the situation he'd been in when he sent Dean to Ilchester, might not even be an angel anymore.

Dean headed out into the maze of car wrecks.

-

Ten minutes later Dean hadn't come back in yet, but Bobby suspected he'd be out a while. If he was calling that angel of his, Bobby hoped the feathery bastard was still around to answer. The only time he'd met Castiel, he'd ended up unconscious, but if the angel was willing to disobey and risk his own existence to help out the Winchester boys, he couldn't be all bad. Maybe a bit of an idjit, but if that was the case, so was Bobby.

The phone on Bobby's desk rang. He glanced towards the window and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Hey Bobby. Can we talk?" Ellen's voice was hushed on the phone.

"Can you?"

"Rufus is out of earshot, in the gas station before the highway. Is Dean...?"

"Yeah. He'll be fine. He's-" Castiel's nature and existence wasn't something Bobby had shared with anyone outside of Pamela Barnes. "He's just outside blowin' off steam."

"He's angry."

"Kid's heartbroke." True enough. "Probably feels like me and him are the only ones not out gunning for Sam, and he's not too sure about me either."

"That was hard." Her voice roughened. "It's hard. Haven't seen either of them for years and the first thing I have to do is hurt the poor bastard."

"It's for the best. Dean's right. Rufus wouldn't tell us jack about Sam. If he found out where he was, he'd mount up a lynch mob and go after him."

"I know. The hardest thing is keeping quiet. Sam needs to be found, but we'll figure out a way to do it without starting an all-out assault."

"You keep me posted if Rufus gets on to something."

"Of course." The line fell silent for a second, Bobby could hear traffic passing by. "Will you tell Dean? That I'm on their side?"

"When the time comes, yeah. It had to be done this way. His reaction had to be genuine. If Dean reacted with anything but-"

"Loathing?"

"Wasn't a word I'd've picked, but yeah. If he hadn't acted like you'd betrayed him, Rufus would never buy it, and he'd never trust you enough to let you in. He's a canny old son of a bitch."

"Takes one to beat one."

Bobby smirked. "Damn straight. You watch yourself, Ellen. You get in trouble you holler."

"You take care too, Bobby."

"Don't worry 'bout me. I'm as tough as old boots."

"Still." In the background, Bobby heard a convenience store door chime sound. "Gotta go," Ellen said, and the connection dropped without further comment.

Bobby hung up. _Yep. We're wall-to-wall idjits around here._

\- ~ -

Dean was wearing a rut in the packed mud of the junkyard. He had shouted for Castiel for hours only days before in this same spot, until he was hoarse, but this time he was worried. The last time Dean had seen him, the angel had disobeyed his (technical) superior and had been facing Chuck's archangel.

 _Cas isn't exactly the best at combat and he was standing down the biggest weapon Heaven's got. If he-_ Dean shook his head. "C'mon, Cas, please!"

Between one step and the next, Dean heard the telltale flutter. The shock of relief turned worry into anger. He spun and crossed the empty space in three strides.

"Where the hell have you been?!" shouted Dean, grabbing the angel by the lapels of his trenchcoat.

Castiel said, looking down at Dean's hands gripping his collar before looking back up. "I was ascertaining our immediate situation."

"Um. Hi," said a smallish voice behind Castiel. Dean looked over. Chuck stood in Bobby's junk yard holding a big black garbage bag. He waved his free hand.

"Chuck? What are you doing here?"

"He, um." Chuck gestured vaguely at Castiel. "He brought me along."

"What? Are you crazy, Cas? He's got an Archangel in tow!"

Castiel met Dean's eyes. "No. He doesn't."

"What?"

"The prophesy came to pass, Lucifer rose, and as far as I know, the Archangels have been recalled to the war."

"As far as you know?"

"I- I no longer hear- I..." Castiel looked to the side, lost.

Dean frowned. "You're on Zach's shit list. Cut off from the Angel Network."

"Yes. It is written that when Lucifer rises and Armageddon begins, all who serve will be called to war."

"And you didn't get your draft notice."

"I still serve God." Castiel's chin tipped up, defensive.

Dean let go of Castiel's lapels and looked him up and down. "Did... You're not...?"

"I've disobeyed, but I haven't Fallen." The angel stared down at the mud on his shoes. "I still retain my Grace. I don't know why."

Dean wasn't sure what to think of that.

"So, um. This is Bobby's wrecking yard, right?"

Dean and Castiel turned to look at Chuck. The writer was turning slowly, trash bag over one shoulder, gaping at his surroundings.

"It's just, I've seen it so many times in my head. This reality thing still freaks me out. The smell is very...." Chuck looked around wide-eyed, sniffing. "...very rich. Layered." Chuck rested the black plastic bag on the ground and pulled out a notepad and a pen out of his shirt pocket.

Dean tugged Castiel to one side, away from the scribbling writer. "Cas, why'd you bring him here?"

"His Archangel has been recalled, but Chuck still receives the Word."

Dean looked at Chuck. Chuck glanced back at Dean before his eyes slid sideways to examine a crushed Volvo.

Castiel continued. "He also knows what he's already seen, and what has been written. He's in danger and cannot be left unprotected. His knowledge makes him a most valuable asset to all sides of this war."

"All that stuff's on his computer's hard drive too, and printed out, didja think of that?"

The corner of Castiel's mouth twitched. "Many supernatural entities are capable of emitting an electromagnetic pulse."

Chuck's head snapped up from his notebook. "You? _You_ fried my hard drive? I thought it was the archangel?"

"Perhaps a combined effort," said Castiel neutrally.

"Aw, man! You have no idea how hard I worked on that stuff!"

Castiel stared at Chuck.

"Or, maybe you do. Um."

Castiel turned back to Dean. "We gathered what printed versions could be found, Chuck has them."

Chuck sighed and hoisted the black plastic garbage bag.

"What do you mean, 'What could be found?'" Dean asked.

"Archangels don't land softly."

Chuck rested the bag on the ground again. "My house is a wreck, there's crap everywhere. I was just grabbing everything made of paper and hoping."

"Great. So there might be hundreds of pages floating around loose where the demons can get at them."

Castiel's jaw tightened. "It's not an ideal scenario, but it's better than leaving everything behind."

 _Great. Angels and demons are after Chuck and he's defenseless._ Dean looked around. "Come on, let's get you inside. I think Bobby's got a safe place for you."

Dean followed behind Castiel and Chuck as they walked through the wrecked cars to the house. Chuck could settle into Bobby's panic room. If he was still having visions, they'd find Sam in no time, and Rufus and Ellen could go screw themselves.

The only thing now was where the hell was Sam and what was Lucifer doing with him?

-

In the darkness inside himself, Sam began to hear things.

Screaming, pleading. Chanting. The slightest scent of blood, the vaguest feel of it slicking his fingers. The familiar iron-and-smoke tang.

Then voices.

"...let us play, Lord?"

NO.

"C'mon. Please? Let us at least meet him."

ALRIGHT. BUT NOT FOR LONG.

Sam felt suddenly hurled out into the forefront of his own consciousness.

MEET SOME FRIENDS OF MINE, SAMMY.

Sam staggered, blinking, the light too bright, the air too full of the scent of blood and iron and fire. He stumbled a step back and hit a wall, sliding down a bit. It was raining, rainwater washing blood from his hands and face. He was in an alley, he wasn't sure where, except it was a very old part of some city. Three people stood in front of him.

A fat man, round cheeks rosy with the cold asked, "Is it him?" and licked his lips.

A hollow-chested young man coughed and spat phlegm onto the wet alley pavement. "It is. Look."

A woman in black jeans and a red leather jacket grinned ferally. "Ooo. He looks scared."

Sam straightened against the wall, raising his chin. "I'm not scared."

A voice that seemed oddly familiar, although Sam was certain he'd never heard it before, came from the alley mouth. "You should be."

Sam turned in the direction of the voice to see a tall, gaunt man in a black trenchcoat walking down the alley towards him. The alley lights caught the man's eyes reflecting from the pale blue in a way that made them seem to glow. "No one will intercede for you, now that your purpose has been fulfilled. None except your guest."

Sam blinked rainwater out of his eyes. "Do... Do I know you?

The tall man came close, and the air felt colder. "When you where a very young child, you had pneumonia, worse than anyone realized. I sat with you then."

Sam frowned. "Only Dean and dad were-"

"When you were a much-younger man, a creature snapped three of your ribs, drove them into your lungs. While you healed enough to awaken and flee from me, I taught you how to play Sudoku. When you were at Cold Oak, and a man you turned your back on stabbed you through the spine, I was there. We spent three days together, you and I, watching your brother break so gloriously and sell his soul for you."

With dawning realization, Sam's stomach sank.

The gaunt man continued. "Half a hundred other close calls and near misses over the years, and that odd little hiccup with the lightning last year. We have had some very interesting conversations about the nature of Fate and free will and you have ranted a great deal less about being in my company than your brother always does. Even though neither of you ever remember me, or my children."

Sam breathed out. "You're Death."

The thin man dipped his chin in acknowledgment. "Yessss. And these are-" he turned to point a bony hand. "Pestilence..."

The young man wiped his nose on his sleeve and waved.

"...Famine...."

The fat, bald man bared even white teeth and nodded.

"...And War."

The woman grinned. "Heya, sport."

"The Four Horsemen," Sam whispered.

War snorted. "Horses are so last millennium."

Death waved a hand dismissively. "It's a convenient name. Nothing more."

"But when- How-"

"It's amazing. Once sixty-six seals went down, they all stopped worrying about the rest of the six hundred."

"Bad tactics," murmured War.

"Of those six hundred, ours are merely four. Left unattempted in Lilith's big push, just in case someone succeeded in stopping them from breaking."

"But now, Zachariah and his allies are too busy with other things. Rallying the troops, re-designing uniforms, putting the right spin on the Apocalypse for the masses, so on, so forth..."

"Our four little seals? Done." War snapped her fingers. "Last night. Hardly a struggle."

Death nodded. "'And the creature cried out, and the seal fell.' Dead easy."

Sam stood up, leaning away from the wall and standing straight. "What do you want from me?"

The Four looked at each other, grinning.

"Very different things, I would say," Death said. "They all end unpleasantly for you."

"You attacked our kids after all," said War. "Well, not you, but your allies. Killed a few of them."

"What? Who?"

"Gluttony, Sloth, Greed, they were mine," Famine said.

War's grin sharpened. "Pride and Wrath were mine. Envy's recovering from that exorcism your friend inflicted on him, thanks for asking."

"Lust's mine. My only one, but she... she was the best vector I could hope for." Pestilence messily blew his nose.

"You haven't killed any of mine," said the thin man. "In fact you've set one free and saved another from her involuntary role in opening a seal. I'm just rather pissed that you and your brother keep getting slipped 'get out of Death free' cards. Monumentally frustrating."

"So yeah, we've all got a personal grudge against you."

"Oh yeah?" Sam jerked his chin up defiantly. "Take your best shot."

A chuckle rose from the group. "No," said Famine, "You aren't our meat to play with yet. We just wanted to introduce ourselves, let you know that thanks to you hosting our Lord there, we get to come out and _really_ dig in."

War purred. "It'll be so _good_ to finally cut loose and let these mortals know what I'm really all about. No more of this diplomacy crap."

Pestilence stepped a little closer to Sam, ducking his head. "You've seen some of my work already."

"What?"

"Rivergrove, Oregon?" The young man sniffled and beamed. "That was just the beta-test. I can go global now. Or rather, soon."

"The Croatoan Virus?" Sam asked, memory surfacing.

Pestilence beamed. "You remember my work! That was an upgrade from the original blend. Much more virulent. Blood-to-blood transfer is a pain in the ass, but I think with a bit of tweaking, a few more test scenarios, it can go airborne and then, oh, then-"

"Don't bore him to Death with your technicalities, Pest," War muttered.

Pestilence dropped his eyes and backed away from Sam, wiping his nose.

"Why?" Sam looked between the people in front of him. "Why are you- why are you even telling me all this?"

BECAUSE IT AMUSES ME.

Sam felt himself ripped back from consciousness and returned to the place of nothing.

BECAUSE- The voice modulated down to a tolerable level again, "...because, while I am keeping you trapped in here, it's only fair that I keep you up to date on current events. Give you something to occupy your thoughts with, since your thoughts are all you have."

Sam seethed. _So I'll be trapped inside myself and going crazy wondering what the hell they're doing?_

"You're a sharp boy, Sammy. Azazel picked very well." Lucifer chuckled. "The Four Horsemen will be loyal lieutenants. They are not underlings who I needed to help me escape. They have not seen me in a state of weakness, and I owe them nothing. Things will be getting interesting now. Briefly and messily interesting, for most people. More than likely your brother too."

Sam roared in fury, "You said he'd live!" The sound of his own voice startled him.

"He's likely to try to get in my way, to get you back, or save the world or some such twaddle. I said _I_ wouldn't kill him. If my underlings develop initiative and decide to take him out..." There was a sense of shrugging.

"You son of a bitch! You can't, you can't do that!" Sam said, his fury feeding his rediscovered voice. "I'll stop you."

"How?" Sam had a feeling, although he had no neck to strangle, he was being choked. "How will you stop me? You were made for me. No exorcism will force me out. Azazel, Ruby, among many other things, they gave you affinity. And that affinity makes me as much a part of you as your own blood."

Sam felt his body again for a second, and something like cold greasy fire chasing through his veins.

"Like the roots of a tree. I'll not be uprooted."

"Dean'll find you," said Sam with certainty. "Dean'll stop you."

"Dean, now he's a useful thing. Something I can use to torment you with. Even though you know how he really feels from that message he left."

Dean's words snapped through Sam again and he lost his new-found voice. _Blood-sucking freak. Monster. There's no going back._

"I hear it echoing in your memory. He vowed to kill you. Just before I arrived, you were standing there, apologizing and waiting for him to kill you... You wouldn't have resisted, would you?"

Sam didn't answer.

The voice laughed again. "He wants to kill you and yet you want him kept alive. You have no sense of self-preservation. Not when it comes to Dean. This is what makes him useful. He keeps you in line and he's a source of entertainment in one convenient package. If he becomes a problem, though, he will be dealt with."

Lucifer left, leaving Sam in his own echoing darkness.

It didn't matter what Dean thought of Sam, or if he wanted Sam dead. He just had to live. But something Lucifer had said niggled at Sam.

_He said Dean keeps me in line. Why would Lucifer need to keep me in line, unless I... I had a voice. If I can get back my voice... There's some way I can break his control._

_I can_ fight _him._

Sam tucked the thought away, and settled down to quietly testing his limits. There was a way to fight back, and Sam would find it.

\- - -  
(that is all.)


End file.
